Dare Devil: Man Without Fear
by Marisen
Summary: Can a blind Harry live up to the prophecy?
1. The Accident

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or related characters same with Dare Devil…I'm just borrowing them for the purposes of this particular work of fan fiction with no thoughts of gaining any sort of monetary gain.  
  
Summary: Can a blind Harry overcome his disability and do as the prophecy intended? Sixth Year fic, spoilers for OoTP.  
  
**

Dare Devil: Man Without Fear

**  
  
**Chapter One: The Accident**

Privet Drive was an immaculate street in Little Whinging, Surrey with perfectly manicured lawns and pruned bushes surrounding each of the houses. It was a normal street with normal residents, save for one house in particular; Number 4, which contained the Dursleys and their nephew. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and their son Dudley were normal enough-at least in the way that they were like their neighbors. Their nephew, Harry Potter, however was far from normal. For you see, Harry Potter was a wizard. He had been attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the past five years, learning-as his aunt said-all sorts of freakish things. 

Said wizard lay on his bed in the smallest bedroom staring up at the ceiling, attempting, without success, to clear his mind of all thoughts. Each time he almost had it, Sirius would creep up on him-the way he fell so gracefully to his death, the shock on his face-or the final words of the prophecy. _Neither can live while the other survives_…it was a horrifying prospect; to be murderer or victim. And then he would remember that if he had just tried this hard when Snape was teaching him, he wouldn't have to be thinking about that stuff right now. 

The last thought, would of course start the slow, burning anger that he felt towards the potions master and Harry's concentration would be shot. The young wizard sighed. It had only been three days since his return to the hated house he shared with his unwelcoming relatives, yet it felt like a year or two. With only two or three hours of sleep a night before he woke, fearful of a dream Voldemort might send, and long days spent trying to find something to occupy his mind, time passed at an incredibly slow rate. 

While the Dursleys were being far kinder than they had in the fifteen years he'd lived with them, he could still see the disgust and fear in their eyes whenever they saw him, made tenfold by the threat they had received only three days earlier from Professor Lupin, Mad Eye Moody, Mr. Weasley and Tonks. It was by far the easiest thing to do, simply to ignore them. He came and went from the house as he pleased, and whenever he asked to watch the news, he was allowed. The Dursleys simply ignored him. 

Finally fed up with his inability to clear his mind, Harry decided to get up and take a walk outside. It was after two a.m., but that didn't faze him. He knew he'd be safe enough, with Order members following him around. While he couldn't see them, he was certain they were in the vicinity. He walked as quietly as he could down the stairs, pausing at his aunt and uncle's door to listen to the sound of their breathing. They were asleep. He didn't stop at Dudley's door-his fat whale of a cousin was probably out with some of his 'friends' torturing cats or something because if Harry didn't have a curfew, then Dudley certainly shouldn't have to have one either. 

Harry wandered the streets of Little Whinging, pausing only once at a spot on Magnolia Crescent where he had first seen his godfather in Animagus form-though Harry hadn't known that at the time. It was a nightly-or daily depending on what time he went out-ritual, and it made him feel somewhat better to remember every moment he'd ever had with Sirius Black. Even the ones where he had believed the man to have betrayed his parents. After several minutes, Harry resumed his tour of the town, thoughts of Sirius filling his mind, and emotions filling his heart and threatening to spill over in the form of tears that were prickling at the backs of his eyes. He didn't try to hold them back, but they never did as threatened. 

Some time later, Harry found himself in the industrial district. It was a new area of town, and one Harry had been avoiding for the past three days, almost feeling that something would happen to him if he went further than the first warehouse. He was just deciding to return to the Dursleys when a loud scream rang out. Without thinking, heart pounding, Harry ran towards the sound. He hadn't taken his wand with him-not only because he felt the Order members guarding him would protect him, but because a small portion of him hoped something would hurt him, so that he could see Sirius again-but that didn't deter him. 

Soon, he became lost in the sameness of the warehouse fronts and backs, and paused in disorientation, unsure where to go from there. Harry glanced around nervously and spit out a curse. Had it been a trick? Was he going to die now, after once more foolishly blundering in like some sort of hero? Just as he was about to turn around and try to find his way out, he heard the scream again. It was much closer this time, and sounded a lot like his cousin. 

Harry once again pelted towards the sound, blood rushing through his ears at the thought of what he might find. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would never forgive him-and despite his feelings towards the portly youth, Harry would never forgive himself either-if anything happened to Dudley. 

As he raced around the corner, he saw to his great surprise, not Death Eaters torturing his cousin, but Dudley's own friends. The fat boy was tied to a barrel marked 'biohazard', and Piers Polkiss and the other boys were poking him with a stick. After a brief thought of simply leaving his cousin to feel what all the kids he'd ever picked on feel, Harry decided to help him out. After all, what would happen if that barrel should get punctured? 

"Leave him alone," Harry commanded as he walked into sight. 

At first, the boys simply ignored him, then Piers turned around and gasped. The others followed suit. Harry had to force himself not to laugh. Really, the whole group wasn't much more intelligent than Crabbe and Goyle put together, but at least they had someone with some intelligence leading them. Still, this was a serious situation, and he locked gazes with Piers. He ignored Dudley who was looking at him with a mixture of fear and hope. 

"What'd you say?" Polkiss hissed. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Here. Let me say it in a way your tiny brain might understand. 'Leave….him….a…looooone.'" He drawled out each word as if speaking to a slow and difficult child. Which, really, he was. 

This of course did not go over well with the group and they charged him as one. Harry spit out a curse. He hadn't really thought what might happen, but he should have figured on this. One or two he could probably have taken, but not six. He quickly turned around and ducked back behind the corner he'd come in from. Fortunately, he was quick, much quicker than the thugs counted on. 

He led them through the maze of buildings, hoping to get them lost so he could at least have some time to go back and untie his cousin. Then Dudley could use his new cell-phone-if he hadn't broken it yet-to call the police. Ducking beneath an empty truck to rest his sore legs, he watched as Piers told the others to split up. Harry grinned. His plan was working so far. Now, he just needed to remember how to get back to Dudley. 

Waiting for the rat faced kid to leave the area, Harry rolled out from under the truck and pulled himself to his feet. He didn't relish the thought of more running, but he had to take advantage of the lead he'd given himself. Surprisingly enough, he found his way back to the biohazard area with ease. He fell against the side of the container Dudley was tied to, and slumped to the ground, trying to catch his breath. Then he stood up and quickly undid the ropes restraining the boy. 

"All right, Dudley?" 

Dudley nodded and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he closed it and stared at Harry for a minute. Finally, he asked, "Why?" 

Harry frowned, confused. "Why, what?" 

Dudley made an impatient noise that sounded like a horse clearing its throat. "Why'd you save me?" 

"Oh," Harry blinked, "Well…because…it's the right thing to do." He was suddenly uncomfortable, remembering what Hermione had said not long before; _You've got…well something of a hero complex…_. 

"Oh," Dudley replied, "Well…thanks." 

Before Harry could say anything to that, or to ask what had happened to get him tied up, a shout echoed throughout the small enclosure. "Get 'em!" 

Harry and Dudley groaned as the rat faced kid and his thugs ran into the area. Piers was grinning manically, and the others were growling menacingly. Harry grabbed Dudley and forced his cousin behind him, which in hindsight was rather stupid of him. Dudley could at least help fend them off. 

Dudley seemed to think the same thing, because he threw Harry's arm from him and stepped up beside him. Harry didn't look at his cousin, but felt a rush of gratitude at the showed support that he had never before received from any of his relatives, although, he would probably be blamed for this whole incident later. Right now, however, he was more worried about keeping his and Dudley's skins intact. 

"Lookit you, rat face," Dudley sneered, "Can't even beat up a skinny little freak properly." 

Harry glanced at his cousin askance, but didn't comment. Piers took the taunting to heart and howled with anger. He rushed at Dudley and Harry, with the others on his tail. Dudley showed his newfound skill at boxing by easily sidestepping the rush and punching Piers on the side of the face. The smaller boy went down into a heap, unconscious. 

Harry gaped at Dudley. "Why didn't you do that to him before he tied you up?" He asked incredulously. 

"Thought he was my friend," Dudley grunted with a shrug, then staggered to the side when one of the other boys took advantage of their distraction and punched him. 

Harry was grabbed from behind, but quick reflexes that had allowed him to capture a golden ball with wings that was the size of a walnut, allowed him to easily twist out of the bind, just in time to avoid being hit by the fourth member of Dudley's gang. Unfortunately, it also put him in the path of the fifth boy who took the opportunity to hit him in the gut. Harry doubled over, gasping for breath, but didn't have much time before the sixth and third member grabbed him and held him in place while the fifth and fourth took turns hitting him. 

All at once, Harry found himself free, and he looked to see Dudley had finished off his own assailant and was now pummeling one of the boys who had been holding Harry. The other boy tried to circle around to get Dudley from behind, but Harry tripped him up, sending him flying into the other two. One of them jumped free and pushed Harry backwards. 

For a moment, Harry remembered his godfather falling backwards in much the same manner, and wondered if he was going to meet the same fate. It was only a moment, but it was enough to have kept him from trying to regain his balance and he fell into the barrel that Dudley had been tied to mere moments before. At first, Harry didn't think anything had happened, except that the back of his head hurt royally, then he screamed out as a burning pain filled his eyes.


	2. Running Away

A/N: Right, so I said in the chapter before that this would be a sixth year fic…well…it sort of is…but it also isn't, if that makes any sense.  
  
**Chapter Two: Running Away**

Harry cried out in pain, tearing off his glasses and throwing them aside in his haste to wipe the burning fluid away. He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand, ignoring the concerned shouts from Dudley and the dull ache in the back of his head. All that mattered was that he get the stuff out. A brief memory of a giant snake shaking its head as its eyes were punctured filled his head for a moment, and he gave a sob. 

As the dull headache sharpened, distracting him from his burning eyes, Harry felt a pair of strong arms lifting him up. The sudden movement caused the pain in both areas to intensify tenfold, and he quickly lost consciousness. 

Several loud noises woke Harry. He blinked groggily, noticing that his eyes were no longer burning and that the headache had returned to a dull throbbing. However, he couldn't see anything, perhaps because of the bandages over his eyes. With a sigh, he sat up, intent upon telling his cousin that he wasn't going to stand for such loud music after he had saved his life, when the strangest thing happened. 

All around him, he could hear people walking down the corridors, their footsteps echoing loudly, as if he were laying on the ground. As he heard them, he found that he could actually 'see' an image of them, very brief, almost like a radar screen he had seen once on a program Dudley had watched. Automobiles raced by and he cringed when he thought they were coming straight towards him, the same odd image imprinted on his mind. The drip, drip of an IV, talking, people shouting outside several streets away…it was all too much. 

Dropping to the ground in a crouch, he covered his now sensitive ears with his hands and clenched his eyes shut. It didn't stop the noise though, or the imprint of 'images'. He began shaking, the dull headache throbbing harder, and in time with his own heartbeat and the blood rushing through his veins. The shock of being able to hear this, and actually 'see' it, made him tremble all the more, and he bit his lip wishing he would wake up from this crazy dream. 

Voldemort must have sent it. It could be the only explanation. None of this could be happening. That thought brought a sense of peace to his mind, and he gradually relaxed as he cleared his mind of all thoughts and feelings. Soon enough, the noise from outside died down, and all he could hear was the thumping of his own heart. As he relaxed further, he stopped even hearing that and slipped back into unconsciousness. 

When he woke again, he found himself back in the hospital bed, and he wasn't so drowned out by all the noise, though it was still a little overwhelming to 'see' things in a shadowy form every time a sound was made near it. Still, by clearing his mind, he found that he was able to focus on what he wanted to hear and keep all the rest in the background to some extent, although it was all still loud enough to cause a persistent headache. He sat up slowly this time and ripped the bandages off his face. He still couldn't see. With an aching heart he walked over to where he though the window was-judging by the warmth on his face and gazed out. 

Oddly enough, the window was quite a ways away, and yet he had felt the heat of the sun as though it had been right there. Reaching out with his hands, he gently touched the glass and ran his fingers up and down along it. He could feel the tiny nicks and scratches that would normally be invisible to the naked eye. He smiled at the realization and began running his hands along every surface in the room he could fine. After what seemed like forever, he had memorized the entire structure of his room and could walk around in the confidence that he wouldn't bump into anything. 

With a satisfied sigh, he lay back down on the bed and trained his gaze in the direction of the ceiling. Though he couldn't see anything, he could hear the electricity as it ran in currents through the wires, and he could hear the patient in the room above complaining about toe fungus. Harry smiled, but only half-heartedly now. Certainly his hearing and his sense of touch had increased-magnificently-but he was still unsure what was going to happen to him. He had already ascertained that he was in a Muggle hospital, else he wouldn't have heard those cars or the electricity. Did that, however, mean that the wizarding world had given up on him? After all, he was Harry Potter, and he was supposed to kill the Dark Lord. It was prophecy. 

"How am I supposed to do that if I'm blind," he wondered aloud. He sighed. They must have given up on him. Who wanted to follow a blind man? Besides, if they were that concerned about his condition he would now be in St. Mungo's and not a Muggle hospital. Order of the Phoenix members had to have been following him that night, so why hadn't they taken him directly there? Probably because of the wards placed on him, and when they found out he was blind and could no longer lead them out of the darkness, they had left him. 

Not that he blamed them, but he wished his friends had at least come to visit him. Surely they wouldn't have abandoned him, just because he couldn't do what he once had? Again, he couldn't help but believe that he was alone. His aunt and uncle certainly wouldn't take him back, now that they knew he could never again return to the wizarding world. 

It was some time before sleep reclaimed him, as he lay there feeling sorry for himself. Then, just before he fell asleep a thought occurred to him. The wizarding world may have abandoned him, but he wouldn't abandon them. He'd just have to find someplace to go, change his name and train his newfound abilities along with whatever magical lessons he could manage in his state. He would be ready to face Voldemort when the time came, whether Dumbledore or the Ministry of Magic thought so or not. This thought heartened him, and he smiled as he fell asleep, Sirius' face smiling back at him in his mind and giving him the thumbs up. 

When he woke again, there were people in the room. He kept his eyes closed and listened to the sound of their breathing and their heart rates. They were all awake then, but weren't talking. Could it be Death Eaters? He concentrated on one of them, listening for the tell-tale rustle of a cloak that would give them away. He heard it, but were they the enemy? His fears were confirmed as one of them raised a wand (he heard the motion, and felt the wind it created) and muttered a spell. Avada Kadavra. 

Time seemed to slow considerably, and he actually felt the spell coming towards him. Taking a deep breath he rolled ever so slightly to the side so that the spell would miss him, but would look like a direct hit to the Death Eaters. Lucky for him they weren't surrounding him, but all standing on one side. A plan had formed in his brain. The only way he'd be able to escape England without worry of being followed, was if everyone thought he was dead. So, after the spell should have killed him, he concentrated on slowing his breathing and his heart-rate so that it looked as though he no longer lived. 

Sure enough, he heard the dark wizards rejoicing. 

"Our master will be pleased," the one who had performed the spell whispered, "let us go and inform him of Potter's death." 

"He will be pleased with you," a feminine voice whispered back, sounding quite bitter, and almost afraid. Her voice was one he would remember forever, and it took all Harry's strength not to betray his charade and attack the woman who had killed his godfather. There was no way he would win now, but he promised himself that she would be the first to go when he finished his training. 

"Hush Bellatrix," the first voice said again, "You are the one who let Potter destroy the prophecy, and The Dark Lord has forgiven you. That is enough, for you I think. Now, let us take our leave." 

Harry waited until he heard six 'pops' before he began breathing easier. As far as he knew, most of Voldemort's death eaters were in Azkaban, but they could have escaped. Especially with the dementors joining Voldemort. Then, before any of the nurses or a doctor could come and check up on him, he quietly crept out of the hospital room, stumbling every now and then in his haste to escape. He had no idea where he was going to go, but he knew he had to get out. He debated a little over whether or not to get his stuff from his trunk, but decided not to. His wand could be traced, and he didn't want anyone to find him. Not until he was ready. 

After getting taken in by a muggle family and given decent clothes (he had told them that he had no memory of who he was and besides, he couldn't see all that well and they had felt sory for him) he had them take him to where he knew the Leaky Cauldron was. Without his glasses and with a baseball cap covering his scar and distinctive hair, he was fairly certain no one would recognize him. All he needed to do now, was find his way into Gringotts, empty his vault and get out. 

"Oy, you there!" Harry jumped at the shout, then realized that it was somebody who had come up close to him talking in a normal voice. His new keen hearing would take a lot of getting used to…if he could just use it and his sensitive sense of touch, he knew he'd be able to do something-anything. 

"Er…" he said when he realized the other person was waiting on an answer, "Yes?" He tried to make his voice sound as American as he could, like the muggles who had been kind enough to give him the clothes he was now wearing. 

"Not from around here eh?" said another voice. 

"Then we'd like to show you…" 

"A great new shop that's just opened up…" 

"If you'll just follow us…" The two voices chimed together at the last part and Harry's stomach clenched uncomfortably. He would have to run into Fred and George first off, wouldn't he? 

Harry smiled in what he hoped was an innocent tourist-perfect victim for the twins-manner and proclaimed, "Well, first I've got to get some money. Fraid all I've got is the muggle kind. I like to fly on airplanes. Not as good a broom mind you, but interesting enough." 

Though Harry couldn't see them, he knew the two were grinning in an identical evil manner. "Why certainly," said one of the twins, "Wouldn't want you to miss out on all the best buys." 

"Definitely not," said the other, and if Harry had known which was which he would forever have been able to tell them apart, just by their voices. That was certainly useful. 

Harry smiled again and turned towards where he thought Gringotts was only to stop when one of the twins placed their hand on his shoulder. "Er…could you tell me where to go? I'm lost." 

"You're also blind," said the twin who had stopped him, "Want us to…" 

"…take you there? We don't mind. Our sister's minding the shop for us today…" 

"It's no bother," they said together. 

Harry shook his head in the negative. "No no…I can help myself…I just need directions is all. North, west south east…" 

Finally, the twins had reluctantly given him directions and he quickly stopped inside Gringotts, went to his vault, scooped out as many galleons, sickles and knuts as he could fit into his pockets and the backback the muggles had given him, and exchanged some for enough muggle money to make it to America on a plane. He really didn't know if that was where he wanted to go, but it seemed a good enough place. Think goodness the goblins never asked questions. As long as you had the key, then you were allowed in. 

On his way out, he didn't run into the Weasley twins again, which was a good thing. They would eventually have found out, and probably soon. Those two were far from stupid as they had proven again and again in their time at Hogwarts. He took the knight bus to the airport (having a witch who was leaving the Leaky Cauldron summon it for him after telling a tale of woe and lost wands) and was soon on his way to New York City. What he was going to do once there, he really didn't know, but at least he was on his way. He sighed and settled back for the long flight, intending to get some sleep.

* * *

**Thanks for the Reviews**  
  



End file.
